


You're Always In My Head

by sugarplumsenpai



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Adult Eren Yeager, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Language, M/M, POV Eren Yeager, Smut, ereri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:43:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5746003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarplumsenpai/pseuds/sugarplumsenpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren has a crush on his best friend's brother, who sadly moved away when he was a teenager.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. This started out as a planned JeanMarco fan fiction. Look how that turned out in the end! 
> 
> I want to dedicate this to my lovely cinnamon roll [kneesocksenpai on tumblr](http://kneesocksenpai.tumblr.com/) again – thanks for everything, sweetheart! What would my otaku life be without you? I'd rather not know. 
> 
> Once more I want to mention, that English is not my native language. I hope this chapter is cleared from most of the mistakes. If you happen to find anything though, please feel free to tell me, so I can correct them as soon as possible. 
> 
> And yes, this work is named after a (line in a) Coldplay song.
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com/)

He is here. 

I freeze in my spot as I watch him step into the café, looking all mad at the whole damn world. He has that whole unapproachable aura around himself. It is looming, almost threatening, daring anybody to just try and come closer. 

Of course that’s exactly why I want to. Of course that’s the reason why I want to do my best to annoy him. 

It is like being told not to think about kiwi birds. You usually wouldn’t think about them in daily life, would you? But as soon as someone tells you: "And now don’t think about kiwi birds for a while," you just do. And your mind instantly goes nuts over their tiny little wings, and their cuddly little body, and that cute spout, and that anime film you once saw on youtube, and how adorable and utterly sad it was in the end, with the happy little tear coming out of that beady eyes and the 'thump' as the screen went black… And then you start to think about wanting to help the kiwis fly, especially this one in the film, and how you want to go to New Zealand to pet them and make them happy, maybe even build them something nice to give them at least the flying _experience_ … 

You just could not help yourself, right?

That’s exactly how things are with that frown of his. I have the pressing urge to poke it to see what would happen.

He shoots me a quick glance as he walks up to the counter to place his order. A tea probably. Yupp, there it is. I don’t even pretend to hide behind the book I have with me, and which I desperately tried to encipher during the last thirty-something minutes. No need to keep on staring at it if the words don’t make any sense and you suddenly seem to have lost your ability to read. Nevertheless I clench to my own cup of coffee and command my beating heart to fucking slow down. 

He comes closer and heads straight towards my table in front of the windows and next to the old book shelf. _Of course he does, you stupid moron. You two arranged this delightful meeting, didn’t you?_

This isn’t a normal café. They also have some kind of library in it, which makes it almost homey. You can stand up whenever you please, go to the books and magazines lying around almost everywhere, and pick something you like. They also have some cuddly couches in another room, where you can make yourself cosy and comfortable. The music selection is good too, always relaxing and soothing. Today it is some Katie Melua – the Pictures album, at least for now. But even the music doesn’t have a calming effect on my nerves. They feel like they are on fire and my whole body is about to explode: brain, heart, stomach… take a pick. It will be messy.

Okay – interlude.

If this was a self-help group, maybe some kind of broken-heart gathering – what it isn’t but please let me pretend it is for a second –, this is how I would introduce myself: 'Hello, my name is Eren and I am a love-crazed fool. 

Oh, you don’t believe me? Okay, then. Let me introduce you to my world. 

I fell in love when I was 10.  

Early. I know, believe me! But I’ve always done things my own way, never minding what others might think, always a stubborn one, and sometimes even an annoying little shit.

It started with a very mild crush on my best friend’s brother who, by some matter of infernal fate, cruel destiny or whatever, got the chance to be my private tutor. I’m not especially stupid, thank you very much, but sometimes I am in a desperate lack of concentration. Or to be more accurate, I lack concentration on the _right_ things. The things I in fact _do_ want to concentrate on are rather easy for me to turn my focus to. It’s always been the other stuff that goes astray. Like homework. Especially homework… As well as studying out of free will. There are just so much more other fun things to do, you see? 

Anyway. 

He was my tutor and the older brother of my best friend Mikasa. In the beginning I only thought he was a little strange and quiet. But these traits resembled Mikasa’s and as the weeks passed by I started to like him. He was smart, seemed to know everything (of course he did: he was six years older than me – he was a walking library in my messed-up little world!) and despite his grim looks he was patient and even nice to me. 

So yes. At first it was more like some kind of admiration that struck me.  

I started to like it when he was being severe and I just loved to vex him on purpose. I began to thrive in his shirty reactions and actually had a tally sheet that counted his precious "Tch!"s that I became to anticipate. I still have that piece of paper and the number is almost in its thousands by now. Yes, it’s been a few years. But stay with me for now. We’ll get there.

When I was eleven my grades had gotten considerately better. And my parents continued to arrange our private lessons. I didn’t mind. I liked spending time with him. I liked having him at my place or visiting him in his 'grown up' room, and given the fact that apart from Mikasa I only had one other friend – Armin from next door – my parents were glad that we got along so well.  

When I was twelve and my grades kept on improving he kept on being my tutor. And I still thought my feelings were merely harmless, pure adoration for a major. He was always casual and just so _cool_. Even his dark hair that framed his pale face was cool. My own hair always stuck out irritably. His was smooth and graceful and it fitted him perfectly. I liked it when he ruffled my hair when I did good during our lessons. I liked how many swear words and insults he knew and could teach me. I liked how he moved. I liked how he bent over behind me and was so close when he explained something I didn’t get. Yeah…, poor, stupid me back then honestly thought it was solely admiration which I felt. 

That was until I watched Labyrinth with Mikasa and Armin on one fateful Friday evening and came out with a huge crush on Jareth the Goblin King. It was a bit like being hit on the head when my brain finally noticed: ' _Hey, fellow. We need to talk! You like guys. Girls? I don’t know yet. But boys? Most definitely!'_

The next time I saw him I felt like in a fairy tail when the handsome and noble prince makes his appearance. Tacky? Maybe. But true, I have to admit. I began to learn even more eagerly so he would be proud and began a new tally sheet that counted his scarce but to me so much appreciated little smiles. When it reached a solid ten I felt wonderful for a whole month. It was marvellous! And better than chocolate ice cream.

I tried to coax information about him out of Mikasa and I just leave it unsaid that I talked about him. A lot. I think on some days it bugged Mikasa, but I’m not completely sure because she already had her stoic poker face when we were young, so it was hard to tell even then.

When I was thirteen I started to develop some serious problems when he patted my shoulder, but especially when he ruffled my hair, as a reward for good work. My whole body became hot and my pants awkwardly tight. I began to dream about him. Not that I hadn’t done that before. But the new dreams were… different. More explicit and clouded at the same time. And I didn’t really know if I loved or hated them.  

And then? He moved away. He was finished with school and about to start university to become a teacher. I was devastated. It felt like my whole world got ripped apart in one awful day. My guts were screaming in agony, my heart hurt and concentration went out of the window for good. I stayed in bed for one whole weekend, listening to Coldplay non-stop because he liked them as well, and after that my grades just kept on dropping. It was bad. I tried to keep on studying like he was still around, even if it didn’t really help. I had soliloquies with an imaginary him and with every year my fantasies only had gotten worse. 

You see where this is going right? Remember our beginning? With the café and everything? Yeah. 

I’m twenty now. And even if it hurts me to admit it… my depressing worship for this guy hasn’t really changed. On the contrary. Over the last past years it kept on assuming alarming proportions. 

Yes, I tried to date a few times and even got my first experience in sex. And even though latter was quite exciting, the whole date-thing was always awful and only felt wrong. 

My last date I called "Horseface". To his face. That’s how much of an idiot I am. He was a nice and probably very decent guy and didn’t deserve my rage. My rage about the fact that he wasn’t _him_. Nobody was. Apparently he dates some very friendly freckled guy by now that he met at a pub after our date, when he tried to drown my dopey face. Mikasa knows him from somewhere and heard about it. I feel happy for him, even if it doesn’t wash away my shame.

I did my best to suppress my emotions that never stopped boiling inside of me. It became less obvious over the years, at least to me. I didn’t think about him every second of every day anymore, but when I did it was horribly painful. 

Imagine my shock when Mikasa deliberately casually dropped the fact that her brother had gotten a new job and would move back to our home town last month. Right in the middle of final exams. As if my life hadn’t been hard enough already. Luckily I was sitting at that point or I would have dropped down or died. 

And that was even before I saw him for the first time in seven years. The whole day had been an abomination and an emotional roller coaster. Fortunately it had been after the exams already but that is all the luck I had. I couldn’t sleep the night before. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t stay still that day. I couldn’t even concentrate on Mario Kart on the Wii that Mikasa, Armin, and I played in the Ackerman living room in the afternoon to pass some time. I just kept on losing and playing until even Armin, probably the kindest soul on the whole planet, laughed at me.

When I heard the jingling sound of keys in the door my whole body went instantly numb and didn’t even feel it when Mikasa pinched me very hard to tell me silently to calm down and behave, before she stood up to greet him. The threatening look I shot at Armin totally lost its purpose, as he held out his finger at me and let himself been taken over by another giggle attack. So much for being called best friend. I tried to take a peak out of the living room.

His voice reached my ears before I could make out his figure in the hallway. As it turned out that was a good thing because I really was not prepared to deal with any of it properly. It was deeper than before, sounded bored as ever, just like I remembered, and it did things to me that were… not good. And all too wonderful at once. It made me shiver and goosebumps creeped up my neck, and down my whole back, and arms, and legs. 

In a desperate attempt to dry my sweaty hands I rubbed them over my jeans, untangled my feet from my crossed-legged position on the soft carpet and stood up. I prayed frantically that my knees wouldn’t shake, while I tried my best to ignore Armin, who was still rolling around on the sofa, gloating in evil joy. 

The first thing I realised was that Mikasa curiously was taller than him. They hugged when my eyes spotted him next to the entrance, so it was easy to tell. I only could make out the upper third of his head, his hair still black as Mikasa’s, and from what I could tell by his forehead, still in the same cut as always. As they finally broke apart and he came fully into my view I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. 

Fantasy-him did definitely not live up to the real deal in front of me. His face was more grown-up. _Duh!_ He wasn’t a teenager anymore and in his late twenties by now after all. His shoulders were broad, his black shirt definitely could not hide his impressive muscles underneath and his tight pants almost were too much for me. God, he had nice legs!   

Shit. Levi had become hot as hell.

I frantically tried not to faint or pop a boner – or, even worse, both – as I only nodded at him and looked into his eyes with something which I hoped to be a not creepy but genuine, pleased smile. Any other movement was impossible anyway, so I didn’t even try it in the first place. 

"Hey." So sophisticated. I know. But hey! I had to say _something_ , hadn’t I?

"Hi, brat. Finally grew up, didn’t you?" Was his only response and I definitely struggled for composure as his lips curved up in a faint smirk. 

The next thing I remember is sitting at dinner between Mikasa and Armin, surrounded by a bunch of Ackermans, and talking about… something. I don’t know about what in particular. My blood was rushing so loudly in my ears that the noise drowned nearly everything else. 

I don’t even know what we ate, but it must have been something nice, since I even managed to empty my plate while my stomach was churning, aching, and singing at the same time. Nevertheless, I still can’t recall what it was. It didn’t matter to me anyway – my whole focus was on Levi.

I tried to listen to him. Not only to his voice, but to what he actually said. He talked about his way here, his new place, and asked his parents and Mikasa about their day. I stayed silent for the most part, fearing too much that my voice would fail me. It didn’t help that we were sitting across from each other and that at this narrow table our feet sometimes nudged against each other when we moved. His eyes that flashed around and hence met mine from time to time didn’t help much either.

Nevertheless it felt like an eternity, dinner was over way too quickly and after Armin left I decided it would be best to go home as well to give the reunited family some time for themselves. 

I was just crouching on the staircase, slipping into my shoes and tying them, as a pair of bare feet came closer. I knew who those feet belonged to. It were the same feet that had bumped against my legs during dinner. 

_He always used to detest wearing socks at home…_ It is strange what seemingly insignificant details you can remember sometimes, isn’t it? Time suddenly simply doesn’t seem to matter any longer…

Even his feet were beautiful! I wanted to stare at them in awe but I knew that it would be creepy and I had to get a grip. So I looked up until my eyes met his again, and raised my eyebrows questioningly. Although he truly was smaller than Mikasa and me as well, his figure was impressive and made me want to drool. I had caught a glimpse on his arse before and the mere memory was divine. 

"Oi. Want to get some tea sometime? I’m curious how you’ve been doing."

I suddenly realised he hadn’t said my name yet. He usually only had used my name when he had to or when he was very pleased with something. Or me. At least that’s how it had been back then.

"Sure."  _Bless my voice for staying steady!_

"The old book café, tomorrow at three?" So sudden? 

"Perfect. I’ll be there." I beamed, made another mental count for a smile of his, and watched him turn around and leave me again. _Damn that arse!_

I must have zoned out for a minute or something because I honestly did not notice Mikasa step in front of me and I also did not see the magazine shooting downwards and right onto my head, before I felt the hurtful smack. She may not look like it, but Mikasa is freakishly strong. 

"Hey! What was that about?"

"Snap out of it, will you?" Her voice was quiet and calm. 

"What!?"

She only rolled her eyes. "You know what." 

"We’re meeting for coffee tomorrow." I rejoiced.  

It must have been quite a sight. Over the last past years my recognition value had been a very angry stare. Forehead furrowed, eyes big as saucers and crazily mad… you get the picture. That I didn’t scream all the time truly was a miracle for itself.

Mikasa looked at me for quite a while and must have come to the conclusion it would be a helpless cause with me anyway. She didn’t even sigh. In the end she simply shrugged her shoulders, shook her head in defeat and walked away as well. 

"Try not to get knocked out or run over by a car on your way home, you pathetic loser." Why did I never notice she had the same bored tone in her voice as her brother before? I honestly do not know. Yesterday it only made me smile even wider.

So now, here we are. It is three in the afternoon and I am sitting in said café, staring at my juvenile – but apparently not so juvenile anymore – crush coming closer, approaching my table.

All night and morning long I had hoped and also feared he would be exactly like I remembered him from yesterday. 

I feared he would still wear his dark clothes and that somehow aloof face that I almost couldn’t take my eyes off. I feared he would be eager to see me as well. I feared his compelling voice hadn’t changed and that the aura I was receiving from him would still be the same. 

Of course it was.  

But also: Even more I hoped, he indeed _would_ be eager to see me as well. I hoped we would sit together at a table and catch up. I hoped that his presence, even though nerve-wracking, would calm me down like it always had all these years ago. I hoped I could listen to his voice and let his words wash over me in delightful bliss. 

And strangely… 

As soon as I see him step closer my rebellious side roars up and tries to take over control. Like it did when I was younger. It even overpowers my nervousness and makes me grin in sheer anticipation of a wonderful and surely interesting afternoon ahead. 

Do you sometimes have the feeling that you have another person, or beast even, inside of you that just longs to burst out from time to time and take over control? 

Just like that!  

I feel my insides fight out a war. One small part of me just wants to hide and run away. The other, stronger one is sitting in the grass, quiet like a preying cat, waiting for the right moment to…  

To do what? I don’t know for sure as well. I’ve always been more impulsive than calculating, never truly knowing what I would do until only a split second before.

So, let’s just wait and see. Shall we?

"Hi, brat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Kiwi animation video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdUUx5FdySs) is indeed absolutely adorable, and even if it has a few years on its back already you should know it.  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

I decide this is the moment to finally give up on my book. I close it, relieved that I wouldn’t have to reread the exact same sentence for the maybe hundredth time now, and smile up at him.  

“Hey.” 

“The latest Tad Williams, huh? Is it good?”

It takes me a while to realise he is asking about my novel. “Yeah, I guess. If you like fantasy.”

“Make me some space, will you?”

“What?” 

“Space, you moron. Or should I sit somewhere else? Perhaps I should leave again?”  

“Oh, no. Sorry!” He is right. Since I’ve been here early I had placed my bag onto the other chair so it wouldn’t get taken away by someone else. I empty the seat across from me, stuff my Bobby Dollar volume three away and sit upright, my feet crossed under my chair while he sits down and carefully places the cup of tea next to mine with the coffee. 

“You drink that shit?” His index finger points at my coffee and suddenly all the nervousness that might still have been there a second ago is gone. 

Snide as usual. I love it!

I grin. “Yes, I do. It’s delicious.” 

“Tch!”

It is like all the years didn’t happen, except for the obvious change of our age. It feels comfortable and strangely tantalising at the same time. 

And he is perfect! I almost can’t believe he is sitting here. It feels like a dream. Too good to be true, only that it is indeed real and he is so close, that I can smell his cologne when someone opens the door and makes the air shift… oh my god! Did he always use to smell that nice? My poor, dumb, hormone-driven body doesn’t stand a chance! 

I nod at the table. “You still drink tea.”

“Wow, Captain Obvious! How could I forget your undisputed power of observation?” Something in his smirk tells me he hasn’t forgotten.

“How was your first night back here?” _Great Yeager! Going right for the gold._ Well… I've always been blunt.

“Tch.” Okay. As lame as it sounds? I definitely will start counting those again. “It was strange. The whole fucking place smells like dust and feet. I bet the previous tenant was a compulsive hoarder.” At that he looks at the sugar crystals that are scattered next to my cup of coffee after I sweetened it; and as expected, his scowl is back. 

Oh, did I not scrape them away?

_Once a neat freak…_

“So, how have you been? How was school?”

I sigh. “Fucking awful.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

He still drinks out of his cup without using the handle. And he apparently still likes to sit on a chair like it would be a throne and his lawful right to occupy it. His right elbow is supported by the back of his chair and I bet he has his legs crossed under the table, so that his right leg is resting on his left knee. I drink it all in, aware of the fact that this may be staring. His gaze is resting on me as well, stoic and observing, and it tells my instincts to go for a little push. 

“You’re the one to talk. Probably were a genius during your training.” 

“Oh that? That was nothing.” He smirks.  

“Stupid poser.” 

“Ignorant simpleton.”

“Oh, shut up.” I kick him playfully but he doesn’t even flinch. That bastard. 

Strange how quickly we fall back into our old, familiar pattern. It had always been fun to throw these verbal pleasantries at each other. A few years back we spent a whole afternoon with that and called it 'language training' in the end. Sophisticated 'social lessons'. 

And you wondered why I loved my afternoons with him… 

“Honestly. How was school?”

“Honestly. Not good. The grades became bad and I am glad it’s over now. If it hadn’t been for Armin and Mikasa I might have dropped out years ago.”

“Concentration problems again?”

_Oh, you have absolutely no idea…_ “You said it!”

“Do you know what you want to do already?”

“Nah, not yet. There’s no way I’m cut out for university like Armin or Mikasa however. As a start I’ve gotten myself a temporary job at a book shop.”

“That sounds good. You always liked reading more than doing actual stuff. Like, I don’t know… homework?”

“Smart-arse.”

“Airhead.” 

The snort that escapes me, comes out louder than anticipated. “Airhead. Really? That’s all you learned at teacher school and among a room filled with kids?”

“It still is better than smart-arse,” he sneers back at me. “That’s so lame!” 

I poke out my tongue at him and grin into my cup of coffee. Hopefully he will be in for a refill.

“How are Carla and Grisha?” 

“Fine, thanks. They are on a trip to the Mediterranean these days. They told me to say hi, though. So… hi!” The last word I say overly cheerful with an enthusiastic wave of my hand and glowing eyes that would make doting grandmas proud. 

A rare chuckle. _Oh my god, this is my lucky day._ “Well, tell them hi back when you hear from them again.” 

“I will. So how have you been?”

“Fine. Thank you.”  He tells me about university, his first teaching job, and about the friends he met while I keenly pay attention to what he says. It is nice to listen to him, to hear his coolly voice, and watch him move slightly around on the chair. 

His grey eyes almost never let go of their composed gaze, but that’s not new to me and Mikasa is almost the same, even if not quite that dark, hence I don’t mind at all. I’ve come to notice and acknowledge small things that tell me about his mood when I was ten, and now that he sits in front of me again, the memories keep on coming back to me in crucial detail, including unremarkable hints that I thought I had forgotten, despite my vivid recollections of him. 

I for my part have not felt this comfortable in another one’s company since he had left. And as far as I can tell he seems to be happy too. Jubilant almost.

From time to time our feet bump against the other’s leg again. We are sitting too close at this small table and my body knows that way too well. Every touch sends little shocks through it and even though my nervousness is long gone, I still can sense it affecting me. Also, the temptation to play a little footsie deliberately in between is too thrilling to overcome completely. 

Every now and then he squints at me as if he knew that I nudged him on purpose. But he doesn’t say anything, so I don’t either and only smile at him.

After a while he stands up for a second cup of tea. He even condescends himself to fetch me another cup of coffee as well. 

“Oi, brat! Come help me with the cups and plates, will you?” 

_Plates?_

I stand up and walk to the counter, only to see him pay for two pieces of cake.  

_Okay… I could eat some cake!_

“What do I owe you for that?”

“Tch. Take your fucking plate and shut up.” 

I take my share of cake and beverage, and help him carry everything over to our seats. 

“What did you get us?”

“What does it look like, brat? It’s cake.”

I roll my eyes at him and decide to play along. “Oh, really? Wow!” It sit down and look at the plate with wide eyes. “How do you eat it?”

“Apparently with a flying plastic spoon and some baby noises. Maybe even a rattle?” His voice is dripping sarcasm before it switches back to his usual bored tone. “Eat your fucking cake, idiot. Yours is chocolate, as you can surely tell on your own, the genius that you are.”

“Chocolate? That’s amazing.”

“Stupid lunatic.” He takes his fork, digs into my piece of cake, only to shove a big portion into my mouth. “Now shut the fuck up and eat.”

Of course I chew as if it would be my first time, before I put my elbow on the table to rest my head in the palm of my hand. “Fascinating. Chocolate cake.” 

He stomps on my foot.

“Ouchie! That hurt! Stupid Levi…” 

“Good. It should.” 

I let the charade fall and giggle. “Honestly. Thanks. It’s delicious.”

“Tch.” He takes a bite off his own cake now that has a cream filling and some raspberries on top. “I’m glad.” 

I’ve always had a weakness for chocolate. The fact that he seems to have remembered makes me joyful beyond comparison. 

After a second bite that truly is tasty I decide to interrogate him a bit more. “When does your new job start?”

“With the beginning of the new school year. Enough time to fully move to my new place and settle in again.”

“Do you need any help with that?” 

“If you would like to. I’ve got to clean that whole thing first before I can start to unpack, however. What a shithole.”

“Still a clean freak, huh?” 

“Don’t you dare make fun of my very reasonable sense of housekeeping, Yeager!” He angrily points his pastry fork directly in front of my eyes but his lips have curved upwards again. “I’ll make you pay, if you do.”

_Well that sounds interesting._ “I didn’t make fun of it, Ackerman! Just pointing out the obvious.” 

“Nutter!” Oh, he’s rising the level. He must be in an exceptional good mood. How good to know.

“Codger!” _Ha! Take this!_

“Tch! I’m not _that_ old, brat…” 

I wink as I help myself to more sugar again, once more doing my best to spill a few, yet just enough, crumbs onto the table during that process. “The offer still stands.”

He sighs, glares at me and points at the sugar can in my hands. 

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

_Well, if he knows anyway…_ “Maybe?”

His eyes stare at me for a brief moment, squinted and observing, and finally he just shrugs his shoulders. “Whatever, brat. But no coffee at my house. I dare you!” 

“Deal! So…” I rest my head on my hand again and blink at him in the most innocent way I can come up with. “When and where do you need me?” 

If he got the implied ambiguity in my question, his face doesn’t show it. He keeps on moving his cup to his mouth, takes a sip and rests the cup on the table again. His eyes scan mine and for a split second there, I don’t really know if he tries to hide a smile. “Don’t know yet. Maybe you should give me your number, so I can call you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Getting enough sleep the next night is unthinkable once again. He is back in my head, more present than ever, and I try to imagine how my name would sound like on his lips, while I pump myself under the sheets until I come with a heavy shudder and a sigh. The short periods of sleep are occupied with images of him as well and when I wake up I am hard again.

All the same, in the morning I feel oddly lively and ready to start into the day. My job at the book shop won’t be starting for a couple of weeks and I am free as a bird. It feels good. 

My feet scuffle into the kitchen where I pour myself a bowl of cereal and fiddle with my phone, only to see that I’ve got a new text message from you already know who. 

**From: Levi  
Still alive, brat?**

I check the receiving time: 6.48 am. A little more than half an hour ago. Is he always up this early?

**From: Eren  
Apparently.**

**From: Levi  
Well, so much for voodoo… Can you be here this afternoon? Provided that you still want to help.**

I chuckle. Usually this would be way too early for me but as it turns out, I love this day already.

**From: Eren  
Don’t know. Your Majesty forgot to tell me, where 'here' is exactly.**

**From: Eren  
And I can see you rolling your eyes.**

**From: Levi  
Show-off.**

**From: Eren  
Know-it-all.**  

**From: Levi  
This insult thing doesn’t really work over texts, does it?**  

**From: Eren  
Yeah, bummer! Anyway. Just send me the address.**

**From: Levi  
Good. See you later. Five o’clock?**

**From: Eren  
Sounds good to me.**

I finish my breakfast as I look up his address; I’ll probably need about 20 minutes by car.  

But first things first, so I’d better tend to the preparations for later. I am relieved to see that the sourdough and pre dough I prepared yesterday are already bubbling happily in their bowls and are ready to use. He always liked my Mum’s bread… It takes me about two hours to completely finish the main dough and I have another few wonderful hours ahead of me, before I will have to tend to it again. 

I use that time to go outside and fate seems to be with me as I find something that I surely can take to a good use. Oh, he will be so mad… this will be absolutely marvellous!

Back home I take a shower and pick some casual clothes to wear, intentionally buttoning my shirt askew. After thinking about it shortly I opt for an indeed matching pair of socks… no need to play all my trump cards at once, especially with the housewarming gifts in addition. I don’t want to act overly desperate. Even if I am… he got under my skin too badly and is occupying my every thought by now. 

I preheat the oven and a cast-iron pot, place the dough into the hot, flour dusted pan, and hope everything goes well during baking. Apparently it does, since the result is a beautiful, crusty, and delicious smelling loaf of bread. Wheat, rye, and spelt give it a tantalising golden colour and it sizzles wonderfully as the hot crust reacts to the room temperature. Just as it should be. Perfect!

By now it is already 4.27 pm… time to sit it out for a while longer. The bread should cool down a bit anyway, and hey, I never promised to actually be on time! 

It is a little after five o’clock when I take my presents and less than half an hour later I stand in front of a multi-level complex. The ringing sound over the interphone system is shrill, so I let my finger rest on the bell for just a second too long and wait for somebody to let me in.  

“Timing has never been your strength, brat, hasn’t it?” His cool voice echoes through the speaker. “You truly should work on that one.”

“Wouldn’t it be boring if everybody was perfect?”  

He responds by buzzing me in and I step inside the eleven storey building, only to realise that I don’t know the number of the floor he lives on. 

I go back outside to ring extensively again, whilst holding the door open with one arm. 

“Yeees?” His stretched, smug answer comes almost immediately.

“Which floor is it?”

 “You’ll see.” The static of the intercom is cut off, leaving me as unillumined as before. That scoundrel! No wonder I’m head over heels for this guy.

I grin like an idiot as I try to count the sections of the name plates on the entrance, then again on the block with the letterboxes, and don’t see an enlightening pattern. That only leaves me with the option to abdicate the pleasant service of the lift and use the stairs instead. 

Of course he lives on the ninth floor. 

His door of flat is slightly ajar and I let myself in. “Found it.”

“Wow, you really are a mastermind. Take off your shoes.” Levi’s snappish reply comes from somewhere inside. I do him the favour of leaving my shoes in the entrance before searching for him, following the sound of soft music and some rustling noise. 

I find him in his living room, unpacking a box of books and storing them into shelf units that occupy almost a whole wall. The music comes from a record player and lets my heart skip a beat as I recognize it. The last few tunes of Coldplay’s Magic fill the air, it’s probably the whole Ghost Stories album. Some things never change – it feels wonderfully familiar, bittersweet, and painful at the same time. I am a little impressed that he even has the vinyl version, but not totally surprised. He never did things half-heartedly.  

“Nice place.”  

It really is. The building seems to be relatively new and the place is bright due to an open architecture with big windows that fill the flat with light. His figure completes the pretty view with his dark-as-always clothes and his controlled, gracious movements that sound so intense in the silence, now that the melody has faded completely. He also is barefooted again… 

_God, I really want to seduce him. I need to!_

“Tch. I just finished cleaning this afternoon, so it’d better be. Would you turn the record?” 

“Whoa, what an honour!”

“It is. But touch the groof and I’ll kick you.” To me it sounds more like a promise than a threat. 

“Yeah, yeah…” I hand him the bread that is still warm and wrapped into a tea towel, alongside a small salt shaker. “Here. For you.”

He turns his head to face me with a questioning frown, and stands up from his kneeling position on the floor after putting the books he just picked up back into the box. “Is that Carla’s bread?” 

“The very one. She sends her love.” Apart from the fact that I really wanted to give him home-baked bread, Mum would have hunted me down if I would have deliberately skipped the German housewarming tradition of bringing some bread and salt with me today. 

“Aren’t your parents still on holiday?” 

My voice is more casual than a Bond film. “They are. I made it.”  

“You baked. Are you trying to impress me?”

“Why?” I beam at him. “Does it work?”

“Wow. Congratulations, brat! You managed to do something that people already mastered ten thousand years ago. You earned yourself a cookie!” _Evasive much?_

"Bazinga!" I wink at his poignant sarcasm and step over to the stereo to turn the record, doing him the favour of handling it delicately. You don’t mess with vinyls! 

“It smells good though. Thank you.” He grumbles and leaves the room, probably to bring the bread into the kitchen.  

“You’re welcome. Let it cool down and rest for a day before cutting it.”  

“I will.” 

The record is playing again, sending out the first tunes of Another’s Arms now, and before he can come back into the living room I reach into the pocket of my shirt and place the dead, black beetle that I found in the park earlier today onto the neatly folded, light grey blanket on his couch. My own special kind of housewarming gift and I marvel at the beautifully promising sight for a moment.  

While I wait for his return I decide to look around. His book collection that is orderly put into his half-filled shelf truly is amazing. A lot of classics, a few more recent works in between, even an encyclopaedia along with a considerable amount of non-fictions. Some of the books seem to be antique, but they all are in good condition. The library of a widely read teacher. It fits him and it makes me feel comfortable somehow.

“So, Captain Marvellous. How can I help?” I ask as I hear his nearly silent footsteps behind me. 

He continues with unboxing. “Help me finish with this carton and the two over there and then celebrate with me.” A few books are shoved into my arms. “Put them next to the Wilde as they are.” 

“Pardon?”

“Books. Next to the Oscar Wilde. Are you deaf?”

“What a charming way to ask for help. I really did miss that, you know?” 

“Tch.” His abrupt mild chuckle washes over my nerves, on its mission to burn me to ashes instantly. “I missed it too, brat.”

The books he gave me to store into the shelf are Austen novels. Emma, Mansfield Park, Northanger Abbey, Persuasion, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility… the whole collection as it seems. And of course in alphabetical order already. What a freak! Naturally I disarrange them on purpose before putting them next to De Profundis.

“Anyway. I meant the celebrate part.”

“You know celebrating, don’t you? During the last past weeks I cleared out my old flat, renovated it, moved, and fucking cleaned this place for two days straight. I’m exhausted. I’m hungry. Let’s order some pizza and get pissed.”

I smile at him. “Okay.”

“You switched the titles, right?” He snarls. 

“… maybe?”

“Tch. You’re such a fucking tease! You had _one_ job to do. Here, you slob,” another pile of books is being pressed into my hands and I don’t miss the silent grin that goes along with it. I look at the loot: Harry Potter, volumes 1-7, The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and The Casual Vacancy. “Keep on working! Next to the Murakami.”

“I never imagined you to still be a Potterhead.” 

“And _I_ never imagined _you_ to be able to finish school without my help. But here we are.”

“Ouch! That hurt. No need to be mean.” I’m not mad. I’m thrilled. I did not have such a fun discussion for years. Well… except for yesterday.

“No need to be cocky. Come on, help me out here, will you?” 

He already has more books in his hands, sorting them into the shelves by some system I can’t really recognise, before folding the now empty box and opening the next one. 

I finally have found his Murakami section and place the Rowling books next to it. “Pray tell, do you act as lovely as this around your students as well? They surely must adore you!”

“Of course they do! I’m amiable. And just for the record: No, I do not. Compared to a certain present nitwit even those rebellious teenagers seem to be sweet and well-mannered. And they all are capable to dress properly.” Yet another very huge pile of books in my hands while he nods at my shirt. Steven Erikson? The whole The Malazan Book of the Fallen series. Wow. “Between the Frank Herbert and Robin Hobb.” 

The record is finished playing again and he steps over to replay it from the beginning, carefully handling the big disc and scanning it for dust before flipping it over and switching the player back on. Why does he have to look this sexy, especially from behind? It’s uncanny!

“I’m not a nitwit.” I snicker as I continue placing the books he gives me according to his instructions. “I am amazing.” As if trying to prove my point I unbutton my shirt, negligibly flexing my abdominal muscles before closing it again. 

“Bold. You really don’t have any sense of shame, do you?”

“Is that a bad thing?” 

He mumbles something in response that is too quiet for me too hear properly and keeps on rummaging through his moving box. He truly is gorgeous when he is flustered!

I realise how the shelves he orders me to use are getting closer to those he is filling too with some fantasy works. I notice his hands hold on to the piles he passes me just a second longer than necessary. I also notice the lingering gazes he shoots at me from time to time. I even notice his slight blush that is nearly too faint to see. And I wonder if he chose exactly _this_ album for a reason… It almost clashes horribly and reminds me of too many years of being without him, listening to Ghost Stories every time the lonesome feeling threatened to overpower me yet again.   

But now he truly is back. And with him next to me the lyrics of every single song sound like a fragile, but powerful promise. I can’t fight the urge to hum along. 

“Here. Next to the Williams.”

I look at the novels and am impressed. I have four of my most favourite books in my hands. “You’ve read the Tide Lords series, too?” 

“You are such a wiz today. What does all of this look like? That I just collect bound stacks of paper to hide them in secret?” 

“Wouldn’t that be something interesting? So mysterious and fascinating…”

“Why are you so weird?” It is absolutely stunning how strange his emotional accusation sounds in contrast to that demonstrative bored tone of his.  

“Why are you so grumpy?”

“You are such a crackpot.”

“And you are such a crabber,” I counter with a chuckle.

“Oddball.”

“Coming from you I’ll take that as a huge compliment. We could establish a club. Maybe even rent a castle to meet with others, just like us? Many rooms to clean…”

“Tch… there.” More books, given to me with another rare smile, teeth showing, eyes sparkling, short giggling sound, and everything. I’m officially blinded! “Right next to the Fallon.”

“Kate Daniels, too?”

“Of course, Kate Daniels. They are absolutely amazing, you nag, and apparently you know that all too well, so why do you as–… oh no, she did _not_!” His voice suddenly is filled with horror as he jerks back, staring into the box with a disgusted look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I’ve seen this reaction before and already think I know what is going on. There’s only _one_ thing that makes him drive up the wall this quickly.

“Hanji, that’s what’s wrong! She packed a goddamn spider into the box.” 

_Yupp._ May I present? The Amazing Levi. Scared of spiders.

Laughter bubbles up inside of me, breaking its way through the surface. “Say that again!”

“She packed me a fucking jar with an ugly fat monster in it.”  

“Still afraid of itsy-bitsy spiders? You must be joking, right? You’re almost thirty.” 

“Whatever that thing is, it’s not itsy-bitsy! Oh, I’m going to KILL her!” His voice is pure menace, but his knuckles are white, clinging on to the books he just picked up as if they were a sheet anchor.

I roll my eyes. “Should I help here, or do you intend to scare it away with your crazy laser eyes or intimidating lady screams? Both won’t help, you know? Because, guess what: It’s trapped in an airtight jar. It can’t go anywhere.” I reach for the glass container and get it out of the carton. 

To be fair: The spider truly is something. His friend must have put in a lot of effort to find a specimen this impressing. It is black, obviously well fed, and big.

“Please put it away…”

“Poor Levi. Being afraid of such a helpless thing. You are aware of the fact that it is more scared of you, aren’t you? Sure we shouldn’t keep it? We could name and nurture it. I bet it’s a him. He looks like a Chuck or something.” 

“Oh, shut up! I-I’m allergic.”

“Sure you are…” He flinches as I step closer. “Yeah,  _I’m_ the weird one here! I’ll bring it outside, you enchanting funk.” 

“Would you, please?”

Grabbing the keys without asking first I go downstairs – this time I take the lift – to release the poor creature on a lawn, where it pitifully hurries away into its freshly conquered freedom. The empty jar gets binned on my way back inside. I know he won’t want to have it around but I make a mental note to congratulate this Hanji somehow.

_Wait until he notices the dead bug on his couch. He will freak out!_

Back upstairs I find him nudging the box he found his present in with a foot. “Is it gone?”

I lean against the doorframe, cross my arms, and look back at him with a smirk. “Yeah, Chuck’s probably doing cartwheels on the sidewalk by now.” 

He glares at me in response and shudders. “Ugh, don’t remind me.” 

“Want me to take care of the box as well, oh mighty role model? I’m sure it’s infested!” 

“Of course not! It is empty.” His emphatically unimpressed chuntering is absolutely alluring. 

“Uh-huh.” 

He doesn’t move. And I don’t even try to hide my snort. He still has the pile of books in his arms, like they were something precious or holy that would protect him from evil harm, a totally disgusted expression on his face that constantly switches between panic, relief, nausea, and refreshing fury, while his foot keeps on poking the box as if it could come to life and bite him any moment.  

And in my twisted brain the whole picture is disturbingly arousing.

“Okay, yes please.”He finally gives in. “I can’t deal with that just yet.”  

“You are adorable, do you know that?”

“Oh, shut up.” 

“Please enlighten me.” While I talk I tend to the carton and only a few seconds later it is folded. “How did you survive without Mikasa or me demon-rescuing you for all these years?”

He is already working on the last box, handing me a new pile of novels with the instruction to place them next to his Pehov. “Two words: Hoover and Hanji. Never thought she would send me off with such a dinky farewell present though.”  

We stand next to each other again as we continue sorting in the books together, and after a second I feel his hip bumping gently, almost hesitantly, against mine.  

“Thank you.” The words come out softly and grateful, without even the slightest hint of sarcasm or reluctance in them.  

“Anytime.” I bump him back, before starting to hum along the music once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The album the two are listening to is [Ghost Stories](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Js16_Q-WtAs&index=1&list=PLATeyS5bPJiGOdIhry_oRjCvd24m9wTPX) by Coldplay. I chose this one for many reasons. Not only is Coldplay an amazing band, but the Levi in my head just adores their music. Also the cover art is a pair of wings, so… its perfect already.


	4. Chapter 4

After the spider incident we stay where we are, standing even closer to each other now than before – so close that I can smell his compelling scent again. So close that I feel the warmth of his body, radiating over to me and that our shoulders brush every now and then. So close, that he’s definitely deliberately intruding into my personal space and not minding me intruding into his. So close, that the quick peeks he continues to shoot at me send thrilling shivers through my body.  

The mere thought of him probably being interested in me as well drives me crazy and as if that wasn’t enough already the next song on the record is starting to play, sending out the first lines of True Love. 

Apart from the music, our movements, and his instructions there is almost no sound at all. And even if the silence is a comfortable one it is ringing loudly in my head, screaming unsaid things at me, that start to weigh heavy on my nerves. The tension is nearly unbearable.

I need to do something. Anything. And my guts shout at me to be proactive rather sooner than later and to rely on simple, instinctive physical contact. 

Still humming along the music I determinedly reach out, fingertips tingling in excited anticipation, to let my hand daringly trail under the hemline of his long sleeve top. My fingers find his alluringly warm, muscular back and keep on stroking as the body besides me tenses up with a faint hiss. 

“Oi. What are you doing?” Gone is the reserved composure in his voice, leaving it curious and… amused? I’ve almost got the feeling that he actually leans into my touch before he turns around to face me. 

_ Oh, this is going to be swell! _

My fingers keep on caressing his skin and it is wonderful. To finally touch him, to truly feel him… it is almost worth all the wait. And before I totally can think it through I shove the remaining book in my other hand randomly into the shelf so I can give into the pressing impulse to run my thumb over his bottom lip. “Trying to find out if this is a date by any chance?”

“Tch.” As he continues his voice is rumbling and his eyes sparkle at me in innumerable shades of molten silver. “You know it is. So stop this crap and fucking kiss me already, you goofball.” 

I hold his gaze with a grin and make a slow step forward, until his back rests against his book shelf and my front is tardily pressing against his. My urge to tease him out of his mind is overpowering and I want to take him apart, just to put him back together, and let him do the same to me in return. “Oh, do I?”  

“Don’t play the innocent here. You’ve been undressing me in your mind since you stepped in an hour ago.”

So he _has_ noticed. I’m so glad. “Of course I have. Have you looked at yourself recently?” 

He grins back at me. “The same goes for you, you know? Come on, Eren. Don’t make me fucking beg here. We both know I won’t make the first m–”

I don’t let him finish. My mouth presses on his lips, which instantly open with a quivering moan to let me in. 

God he is _delicious_!   

His back arches up in a tantalising motion, making his firm body melt against mine in a gracious wave, and finally I feel his hands in my hair, grasping it and pulling it almost painfully, but oh… it is so damn perfect! Jolts of electricity run down my spine and make me rock hard.  

My hips pin him against the furniture even stronger, I let my tongue slip into his mouth, and the arousing way he meets me halfway with lazy, firm strokes spurs me on. My fingers under his shirt explore his skin, slightly scratch his ribs to coax another shiver out of him, and my other hand cups his neck to hold his head in place. 

I need him to know that I’m not letting him go. Not again. Not without me anyway.  

And I kiss him, and kiss him, until we both are out of breath. Regardless of my lack of air I’m incapable of pulling away. Instead I nibble at his bottom lip, suck it in, lick it, tease it with subtle brushes of my mouth, and growl approvingly as his darkened eyes flutter open to look into mine. 

I tilt my head upwards again to reconquer his lips, only to feel him welcoming me with a beckoning flutter of his tongue, alongside a push of his hips that rub over my thighs and up my groin. 

It almost is too much. And still not enough. I need more. Much more!  


His reactions – as well in our crosstalk earlier as those right now – remind me of all the reasons why nobody else could ever have been a match for him. He is so fucking ideal in every possible way. And now that I taste him, inhale his wonderful scent, and have him in my arms at last, I want to drown in it and make him all mine.  

Both of my hands find his waist to trail up his torso and pull his shirt over his head. It forces us to break apart for a second and we gasp sharply, hungry for vital oxygen.

His lips are swollen and red, his eyes sparkle affectionally with tiny lights… fuck. He is so gorgeous that I want to die. 

“So greedy,” he hums between heavy pants. “I love it.”

“Good.” I breathe. The understatement of my life. I could fuck him right here on this spot. “I can’t hold back anymore.”  

“Me neither!” His mouth is back on mine again, his fingers already quickly working on the buttons of my shirt with precise determination until it is open and I can shrug it off at last. 

My skin is prickling and seems to be too tight. I want to lose myself in him; in his possessive touch, his wet, hot kisses, and in his strong body. I want to hear him sigh and scream, and make that aloof facade shatter and fall completely, until there’s nothing left, except for his inner core showing his pure, bare emotions. 

The whole time we kiss and I thrive in the way our movements constantly alter their pace, ceaselessly adapting to whichever reaction we receive from another. Desperate and overpowering hastiness with pulling at each others hair, frantic biting, and fingernails scratching over naked skin are replaced by luxurious and deliberate strokes, tender licks, soft moans, and the simple wish to explore the other. 

I need to see more of him. 

The next time we pull apart for some air I look deep into his eyes that are blown wide with lust by now, and open his belt and trousers to pull them down with me as I drop down to my knees. 

His cock is hard already, eagerly pointing at me, joyfully begging me to play. The tip is glistening and at my attentive gaze he twitches seductively. It is marvellous.

I smile and glare up at him again. “So beautiful!” My fingers gently trace up his legs, caressing his calves, and thighs, and slow down as they reach his balls.

“Fuck!” The groan escaping him sounds incredulously inviting and makes me leer at him. 

“More?”

“Shit. Yes!” 

My hands caress his legs again, helping him to fully step out of his clothes, until they find hold on his hips. I dig my fingers into his arse before sticking out my tongue to slowly lick over the slit, my eyes fixated on his once more.  

 _ Holy shit! _ 

“Oh my god…yes!”

I lick over his shaft, swirl around the tip, tasting his hot flesh, and know I’ve found myself a new hobby. He stares back down at me with a silent plea and I take him all in. He is absolutely ambrosial and studying his eyes is arousing as fuck.  

My tongue presses against him from below in tender strokes, circles him again and again and toys with his tip as I hollow my cheeks and move my head back and forth. 

He indeed is wonderful. And all the ways in which he responds to me are breathtaking. 

I let go of him in a slow movement to look at him again. “You taste so good.” I blow over his length. "I could do this forever."

 He tremors with a heavy sigh and I gently suck on his balls. 

“God… Eren!”

“Hm. So responsive. I love it.” I lower my voice with a smirk and fix his gaze with mine again. “Just imagine how this would feel after we’d shave you.”

“You little fu– ahh!”

I take him back in and keep on sucking, applying different pressures, trying to find out what he may like, whilst soaking up every moan, every reaction. 

His hands are back in my hair, tugging wonderfully and encouraging me to go on as I feel him harden even more. I don't want this to be over already. I would like to tease him much longer, keep him in suspense until he would beg me to finally release him. But my need to continue is more powerful and leaves me without a choice. I've been dreaming about this for too long!

My tongue runs over him again with a gentle stroke, only to come to a rest directly under his tip with just the slightest pressure. 

“Shit… Eren… I’m going to…!” I fasten my grip on his hips to steady him while I hold his gaze and curve my lips into a smile, letting him know I won’t let go. 

“Mhhh.” At my hum around him his eyes widen even more and suddenly he freezes in my arms while his hands clench into fists. 

“Eren!” His voice comes out in a choked moan as his irises roll up and a split second later I feel him come into my mouth in hot, jerking spasms that shake his whole body. Alone my name on his lips, whimpered in his ecstatic voice is enough to almost take me with him, not even to mention the stunning pull on my hair, but I’ll be damned if I don’t come inside of him. 

I lick him tenderly once more, calmingly rubbing my thumbs over his hipbones, before letting go of him, and I rise. 

“Levi. Where is the bedroom? I want to fuck you. Now!”

“Perfect.” He pants and places a trail of hasty kisses on my jaw, my throat, and down to my collarbone, before his hand tugs on my wrist to guide me through his flat. “This way.”

By the time we stand in front of his bed he pulls me back into his arms. I chuckle into his mouth when he playfully bites my lip as if to encourage me. My hands trace up his back that is covered in goosebumps, then down again, and I lift him up into my arms so I can place him on the mattress.

“I’m not your fucking princess,” he complains with a chuckle. “I can walk on my own. I've got legs.” He wiggles them to prove his point.

Before I crawl over to him I get rid of my own remaining clothes at well. “Tut-tut. You were distracted, muffin. And a little wobbly on your feet as well if I may add.”

“Unbelievable. You’re such an arse.” His breath is still heavy and deep and if I thought earlier that his eyes were sparkling it is nothing compared to the sight that awaits me now. “God, I missed your bullshit.”

“Doesn’t this make you a masochist?”

“Who cares?” He looks up at me with an alluring smirk. “Obviously you don’t so why should I?” 

“How good that I have attained full age by now, huh?” 

“Oh shut up and fuck me.” He sits up and his fingers boldly dash to my cock as he leans forward into a dizzying kiss. I feel his tongue pressing tenderly but decisively against mine and sense how his teasingly slow strokes do things with my body that should be illegal.

Now it’s me who’s panting at his lips. “Gladly. Please tell me you’ve got condoms and lube. I’d hate to stand up and leave you like this to fetch my own.” 

“Your own?” His irritated question is priceless and makes me beam. 

“In my bag.” As he shakes his head in amused disbelief I add with a wink “precautions for tonight.”

“You _planned_ this?” 

“Why? Didn’t you?”

He snorts and points to the nightstand to my right. “Top drawer, you glorious freak.”  

I follow his directions and am relieved to immediately find what I’m searching for. The box of condoms is still closed and the lube seems to be new as well. This discovery makes me leer at him. 

“You so planned this, too!”  

“…maybe.” That sly bastard. No wonder I adore him to death!

Placing the bottle of lube and a condom next to us on the bed I hungrily kiss his swollen lips, only to feel his hands instantly wrapping around my neck to pull me even closer again. My fingertips tingle, long for touch, thus I let one of my hands run through his hair, the other finding his hand to link our fingers in a devoted squeeze. 

When I break apart I watch him looking up at me. He truly is beautifully arousing, stark naked as he is, and without his usual offish expression on his features. His free hand reaches out to run over my jawline and he beams up at me with his teeth biting on his bottom lip. I want to burn this sight into my memories. 

It makes me strangely proud to be able to experience this version of him and I let myself enjoy this moment, before the roaring fire inside of me pushes me back into action. 

“Come on, Eren. I need you!” His luring plea is calling out to me and his nasty fingers let go of my face to pump my cock again… god, I need him too. I need him so badly, it hurts. 

I peck his Adam’s apple, squeeze his hand in mine once more and reach for the lube. The lid of the bottle opens with a suspenseful click and I cover my fingers before throwing it back on the bed, while he unwraps the condom to roll it over me.  

“Turn around and lie down.” I murmur after shortly nibbling at his neck. “And lift up your sexy arse.” 

“It _is_ sexy. Glad you like it!” Hearing him giggle along the ruffling of bed sheets is music to my ears and can surely only be topped by the view in front of me. 

My eyes linger at his muscular back and before I can stop myself I lean down to tenderly bite into his cheek. 

I’m rewarded with a laugh and an attempted kick by one of his legs. “Oi. What the damn hell are you doing down th–… ahh!”

My first finger has found its aim and wiggles its way inside of him. “Just trying something…” 

He is so fucking fantastic that I have to struggle for keeping my voice calm. My free hand trails up and down his back, gently caressing his ribs, his hips, and his spine while my other hand carefully feels its way further in.

“Uh-huh—” He tries a snappish reply but it quickly goes under in another moan.  

_Shit, this is too perfect._

I let him adjust to the sensation and keep on calming his body while I cautiously move my finger. As he lets go of another satisfied moan I add a second digit to the first, constantly moving, twisting, and searching… 

“God… yes! There, Eren!” 

His whole body jerks into my touch and his screams, faint shivers, and the needy noises escaping him are like a drug.  

And I need more. I let go of his back and reach down between his legs to massage his dick whilst my fingers inside of him circle around the exact right spot, deliberately missing it.  

“Like this, honey?”

“Fuck you!”

“There, there… no need to get upset.” I coo and press down where he wants me to. 

“Ah!”

By now he is fully hard again, literally shaking below me, and I hastily add a third finger. He winces shortly, making me stop for a moment. “Shit. Sorry, baby.” I kiss his back in apology. “I’m greedy.”

“I’m not made of glass.”

I kiss him once more and continue with careful movements until he moves his hips in unison and whimpers in pleasure again. My other hand is back on his erection, caressing his shaft and playing with his balls.

“Eren… please!” 

“No.” 

He whines when my fingers leave him and I use the remaining lube to distribute it on me before gripping his hip.

“What? Wh–”

I flip him over again and look into his questioning eyes. “I want to see you.” With a last premonition by a squeeze of his hips I thrust into him.

“Oh, shit!” His back arches upwards as his head tilts back and his fingers grip to my hair again. 

Fuck, this will be over way too soon! He is driving me crazy.

“More, Eren!”

A hungry groan escapes me and I start moving. It feels absolutely amazing and I want him to feel the same.

I keep on pushing my way out and back into him, constantly varying my pace and angle to find the right way for us. “This is so good! You’re perfect, baby.”

“Eren!” He suddenly lifts his torso completely off the bed and pushes me into the sheets to sit on top of me. 

_Oh my god… fuck!_

“Levi?”

Lying on my back like this I have free view on his body and his muscles that flex and bend with his movements as he lift himself off me to push back down again. My hands fly to his waistline and his cock on their own, longing to touch him, to feel him and to hold him. 

He looks down at me and his gaze his clouded by lust, a sinful smile on his lips while he keeps on moving. By the way his voice trembles more and more with every agitating little noise he makes I can tell that we must be hitting his prostate over and over again.  

Watching him come undone like this must be the most fucking swell thing I’ve ever experienced.  

“Eren.” He sounds as if he would call out to my soul and it nearly sends me over the top. 

“Shit!” _Fuck slow! It’s overrated anyway._ I’m so close and I need him to follow, so I start pumping him again while my other hand reaches up to play with his nipples. 

I hear him moan between our heavy breaths, gasping my name again and again, and feel his movements up and down, while skin smashes against skin, and suddenly… it is over. 

My vision goes black and I come with a relieving scream, just as I feel him clenching around me whilst his hot sperm shoots out of him, into my hand, and onto my chest. 

After a few seconds in which I just can lay here I lift myself off the bed to carefully lie him down again, move out of him, and fall back on the bed by his side while we listen to each other’s pants, slowly coming down. 

I reach for his hand with my dry one and squeeze it tightly before intertwining my fingers with his, kissing his palm shortly, and resting it back down between us with my thumb running circles over his skin. 

I turn my head to look at him, only to see that he is already watching me with hazy grey eyes.

“Well, one thing is clear.” I smile. “You’re never going anywhere without me again.”

He breaks out in laughter and it is so contagious that soon we both giggle, until the mess on my stomach and hand starts to cool uncomfortably and we stand up to wobble into the bathroom to wipe ourselves clean. 

“Okay, brat.” He chunters on our way. “I’m officially starving. Are you still in for some pizza?”

“Yes. Pizza sounds good.” 

“Still without mushrooms and pepperoni?” 

“Still with salami, extra cheese and olives?” 

“Yeah. Let’s take a big one. You place the order and I’m going to take a shower to drown my shame.” 

“Wow, your cactus charm is back.”

He has already stepped into the tub and closes the semi-transparent white curtain a moment before I hear the water running. “And you _love_ it.”

Of course I do. 

And I’d really love to stay naked with him for a while longer. So I pull away the curtain and step behind him. 

“Oi! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

“I’m joining you. Making sure you don’t drown yourself by accident?”

“What about our food?”

“We can order that later, grumpy cakes. I’d rather watch you in here. It’s way more fun!”

“You’re an idiot.” His faint smile with his slightly tilted head says otherwise though and I reach for the shampoo bottle to go to work.

“An _irresistible_ idiot. Birds of a feather flock together, huh?”   

I am thrown off my guard by muscular arms that wrap around me so strongly that I can’t move and have to struggle for air. His head nuzzles against the hollow where my neck and shoulders connect and all I can think about is hugging him back. Which I do. 

If you ever have been embraced without any ulterior motive or hidden agenda, only with the pure need for clinging on to someone, you know what it feels like.  Right now I can feel his heartbeat that hammers strongly and calmly against my chest and that tells me that he is alive. I feel his breath on my collarbones and his hands that simply hold me. I feel his warmth and every little movement that makes him melt against me even more. 

My heart is free again. 

It is marvellous. And I feel ready to take on anything. 

But knowing that he is the contemplative type, almost brooding even, I sense the realisation just hit him as well and he needs a moment to let it sink in completely. Thus I simply hold him too while my hands run over his shoulder blades in soothing circles… that is until I can’t hold back any longer. I lift my head, let some water run into my mouth, and let it shoot out in a small jolt that hits his forehead. 

“Hey!” His grumble goes under in a chuckle and he bobs my arm. “Give me the shampoo! I think you’ve pulled enough crap for today.”

 

\- - - 

 

We really are hungry and hence we manage to shower like civilised grown-ups. 

Meaning: Of course there’s a lot of groping, squeezing, and licking involved. Slippery wet foam really is nice. But soon he shoves me out of the shower with a bugged out rolling of his eyes. 

My complain that it isn’t very polite to put me into the freezing cold, all on my own without anyone to rub me dry again, is solely answered with a short snort and the amiable mention to go fuck myself or do something useful for once and finally order that damn pizza. 

I settle for the option with the food, but decide it is time for him to find my present. I even am so nice to actually towel myself. P rettying up his neatly cleaned floor with beautiful water spots will work on another day as well after all.  

My phone is still in the pocket of my trousers and I collect my clothes to step into them again. I also collect his clothes, fold them thoughtfully and place the pile on his couch in the living room… directly next to the blanket with the beetle. 

A quick search on the internet tells me the number of my favourite pizza place and my finger hits the call button. I order us a big family sized pizza and since there is a free drink included I opt for a bottle of coke with an impish grin. He’ll hate it. 

The woman on the other end of the line tells me it will take about half an hour for the food to arrive and I thank her before hanging up, just as the sound of running water from the bathroom is cut off.  

“Would you like to listen to some music again?” I call out to him.  

“Yeah. Just pick something you like.” 

“Where’s the rest of your Coldplay vinyls?”

“I guess I put them on the upper shelf on the left.” 

Yup, there they are, enjoying pride of place and I quickly find A Rush Of Blood To The Head. I think it fits perfectly. 

I get it out of the shelf and put Ghost Stories carefully back into its cover before placing the new disc into the record player and switching it on.

“Nice choice,” I hear him behind me and turn around. 

“Thought so.” His hair is damp, his chest is still painted with a few water drops, and… “Look at that! You shaved. All for me? I’m so flattered.” 

“Looks like I did.” He smirks. 

Well, that explains what took him so long in there.  

“The pizza will be here in half an hour and your clothes are on the sofa.” Even if I truly wouldn’t mind him staying like he is. Yummy! 

“Thanks.” He steps over to the couch.

_One… two… three…_

“Oi?”

“Yes?” I can sound very innocent if I want to.  

“Why the fuck is a fucking dead beetle on my coach?”

“Oh, you found my present? Welcome home!”  

“You bastard! Come here!” Naked as he is he lungs forward to catch me, maybe to tackle me, but I’m already moving, dashing away from him with a laugh.  

Sadly… he is quicker. 

I should have known! 

His hands grab my shirt right under the collar and he pushes me down on the couch to sit on top of me with his knees next to my legs. I beam up at him with glowing eyes, gleefully ignoring his berserk stare and his fingers that still are clasping to my shirt. Studying his naked body with my hands is definitely the better option here. 

_Oh, this is far better than I ever could have imagined!_

“What’s wrong, honey? Was the shower too cold and lonely after I left? You didn’t cut yourself in delicate places, didn’t you? Should I examine you? I’ll be very thorough.”

“Unbelievable. I’m back for two days and you already infested my living room.”

“Don’t be over-dramatic. It is only the blanket. And I did not infest it. I bathed the beetle in antiseptic before I brought it over.” I really did. “Isn’t it beautiful?” 

He blinks, obviously irritated. “You _disinfected_ it?”

“Of course I did, twinkle toes. I wouldn’t cover your new place in germs during the first week.” Emphasis on ' _the first week'_.

He sinks down on my legs, lets go of my shirt, and breaks out laughing. “You are so full of shit. Such an arse…”

“I’m _your_ arse now, so this joke is fully on you.” I grin at him. “Maybe next time I’ll get an earthworm for your kitchen…”

“Ugh. You are so gross!”

“You really can not live without me, can you?”

“My poor nerves. What have I gotten myself into?” 

“Hush now. This ship has sailed long ago. You’re stuck with me.” 

He kisses me, hops drown from the couch and ruffles my hair before dressing himself. Such a pity. The sight was beautiful… “Tell me something I don’t know. But you’re getting rid of this obnoxious thing. Irrespective of antiseptic I’m _not_ touching that.”  

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Where do you want it? Crematorium? Area 51? Room of Requirements?”

“The bin in the kitchen is enough, thanks. And wash your hands afterwards.”

“As if you have to tell me that.” 

“With you, you never know for sure.” He might be right. 

I don’t have to look long to find the kitchen and have to smile when I see the bread. He has unwrapped it from the tea towel and placed it onto a cooling rack so it wouldn’t sweat. He must really be looking forward to eating it tomorrow. 

After putting the beetle into the trash I wash my hands and go back to the living room where he is sorting the last few books whilst whistling to In My Place. 

“I’ll help you with the rest.”

“Thanks.”

We finish our work, I even put the book that I blindly stuffed into the shelf earlier into its righteous place, and the last box is empty and just folded to be stored away as the door bell rings, announcing the arrival of our food. By now I am hungry as a hunter myself and gladly take care of the payment. I want to – he just moved and besides the fact that I want to spoil him rotten I can afford it. 

A few minutes later we sit at his table in the living room and munch pizza. Of course he rolls his eyes as he sees the coke, but that’s all the nasty reaction he allows me to get. 

“Eren?” He suddenly asks me with a small frown when I am reaching out for my third piece. 

“Yes?”

“How long?”

I sigh. I know what he means. “Do we have to have this conversation now?” 

“Yes. I want to know.”

“Okay." I place the piece of pizza down on my plate and look at him. "All the time, really. It got really bad right before you left, though. Puberty’s a bitch. It fucks up everything.” 

“Shit.” 

“Yeah…” I cut him off before he can add anything. “Listen. I don’t really want to talk about it. It's in the past anyway. I’m not blaming you for going away for university. What kind of an arsehole would I be if I did? Besides. You’re back now and I am here. I don’t know how you feel about all of this but for me it’s been pretty amazing this far.”  

I reach out over the table to take his hand before I continue.  

“You know me well enough, but I probably should inform you nonetheless that if you don’t kick me out today, I intend on staying until we’re old and grey and have to help each other with our dentures. It’s up to you.” 

“Wow, what a speech. Quite melodramatic though, don’t you think?" His eyes sparkle in amusement. "And with that distinct sweet tooth of yours you’re surely the first one with the dentures, so that joke is on you for a change.” 

I let go of his hand to flick his forehead. 

He growls at me. “What was that for?”

“You get what you deserve.” I smirk back. And I know by the pissed off frown on his face that he is happy. 

When he speaks again his voice is completely uninvolved once more but his hand has already found mine to hold it again. “Seems like you’re staying then. This place is a little too big for me alone anyway and we just might move in here at the same time while I’m at it already.”

“Work would be closer for me, too.”

“Great.” 

“Great. I’ll get my stuff tomorrow.”

“Good. I’ll help. No more corpses on my couch, though.”

“We’ll see.” 

“Shit. I’m so going to regret this.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yeah… I guess I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is loved. <3


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